Dragon Age: Origins Epilogue
by ukrazian
Summary: Basically summing up what happened to my character Lucian after completing the game Dragon Age: Origins. Thus it will obviously contain spoilers. To those who have already completed it, or don't care about spoilers, please enjoy!


Disclaimer: I do not own anything to do with Dragon Age: Origins.

**Epilogue**

After a horrendous battle with the hordes of the Archdemon, and even the Archdemon itself, it was over. The darkspawn were crushed and scattered, the Grey Wardens had survived and Ferelden was saved. With a new queen on the throne, the humans were headed into a new golden age of happiness and prosperity. Alistair was heading the Grey Wardens, who had taken over Arl Howe's position and now wielded much-needed political influence. The elite group would be allowed to recover and perhaps this Blight was the last the world would ever see. Lucian, the proclaimed 'hero of Ferelden', had slain the Archdemon itself with a daring leap onto its head and some well-placed blades that sank straight through to the beast's brain. When even that failed to slay it, he had picked up the unconscious Alistair's sword and used it to tear open the Archdemon's throat, finally wiping its taint from the world. There had been a ceremony and a great celebration that proclaimed him as the finest of the Grey Wardens and one of the greatest heroes Thedas had ever seen. Over the course of his difficult journey, he and his friends had made difficult decisions. They had experienced both good and bad times – more of the latter, if truth be told.

The core of the group included Lucian himself, a Dalish Elf who wore Drake-scale armour and wielded two blades (one a gift from Duncan, once a Grey Warden himself, and another taken from the body of a Crow assassin); Alistair, the quick-witted Grey Warden and former Templar, who bore a Champion of Redcliffe's wooden shield; Leliana, a former Bard turned member of the Chantry, who preferred to use a bow taken from her former mistress Marjolaine named Marjolaine's Recurve; Morrigan, Witch of the Wilds and daughter of Flemeth; and Lance, the ever-faithful Mabari War Dog who Lucian had saved in Ostagar. Aside from these, Lucian had travelled with Sten, a qunari with whom he had never seen eye-to-eye, a drunken dwarf named Oghen, a former assassin named Zevran and a powerful mage called Wynne. Most of them had been good friends and companions, and even more than that in some cases. All of them were honoured as heroes and all of them had stuck by Lucian and, more crucially, survived throughout their trek. The world was saved and Lucian believed he had made it a better place. So why did he feel so empty inside?

He had nominated Queen Anora for the throne, as it seemed practical; she was more suited to rule and Alistair didn't want the kingship anyway. But since he had put his faith behind her at the Landsmeet, and confronted Loghain, Alistair seemed to have become more distant with his Elvish friend. After Loghain's execution something had changed between them. Lucian had wanted Loghain to be locked up for his crimes, but due to intense pressure it seemed there were only two radical options: killing him or accepting him as a Grey Warden. To honour his friendship with Alistair, he allowed the Warden to kill Loghain, but since then Alistair had almost derailed, becoming ruder, less amicable and near-suicidal in combat. Perhaps he was full of guilt, but whenever Lucian had brought the subject up Alistair replied with only a grunt. Alistair had said what an honour it had been to fight alongside Lucian, and that he had never had a better friend, but looking back now the words seemed so empty. The Warden had left soon after Anora's coronation, a wild look in his eyes as he prepared to wipe out the darkspawn no matter what the cost. He half-heartedly asked Lucian whether he wanted to come along and fulfil his duty as a Warden, but Lucian hated fighting. Once he had gotten a thrill from it, a buzz, but that had changed. Now he only felt dread when the time came to unsheathe his blades. He never wanted to see another darkspawn as long as he lived. So after an unexpectedly heartfelt goodbye that almost seemed to reconnect the friends, Alistair was gone.

Leliana had opened herself up to Lucian many times before, pouring out her heart to his listening ear. They had become good friends over their discussions, and there had even been subtle hints of more - such as his presentation of a bunch of flowers named Andraste's Grace, which reminded her of her mother - but they had never gone very far down that road. They had a deep emotional connection and had even promised to travel together when the Blight had been averted. After the coronation, Leliana had told Lucian that she was heading back to Orlais to track down Marjolaine, but when Lucian offered to come along and travel with her as promised, she said she needed to do this alone. The last he had heard of her had been news of vicious darkspawn attacking Orlais, but whether she lived or died he didn't know.

Sten was an honourable warrior whose prowess had helped hold the gate at the Battle of Denerim, but still he and Lucian were from different worlds. After a short goodbye and a promise from the qunari to honour Lucian as kadan, a friend, they separated. Sten was heading for his homeland and Lucian didn't expect to hear from the creature again.

With him he took Lance, the War Dog. The faithful hound had been a good friend to Lucian, but he could see that a bond of respect had been built up between the dog and the qunari. They were kindred spirits. Lance had licked his face and barked happily once, remembering how the Elf had saved his life back in Ostagar, before bounding off after his new master. Their parting hit Lucian unexpectedly hard.

Oghen got so drunk at the coronation that he barely recognised his Dalish friend, and despite their harrowing encounters in the Deep Roads together the only reason the dwarf could think of for staying above ground was that the ale was better. Thus Lucian left him to a life of well-deserved drunkenness and revelry in Anora's court.

Zevran was a wily Elf who often joked, even when he was disadvantaged; a prime example was when the two first met, with Zevran at blade-point. But he had agreed to join their group, and had helped to eliminate a group of Antivan Crows who had come in search of him and Lucian. What was more, he had taught Lucian the art of being an assassin, which had proved exceptionally useful in their battles. He had offered to travel with Lucian in Leliana's place, but Lucian recognised the glint in his eye; whatever his motives were for travelling with him, they weren't good. Perhaps he planned to kill him in his sleep and present him to the Crows to get back into the fold. So Zevran and Lucian parted ways, with the two Elves recognising an unusual friendship and setting out to travel for completely different reasons.

Wynne had been a powerful ally with her incredible spellcraft and healing powers, but she was getting old. She had been offered the place of First Enchanter in the Circle of Magi, but all she wanted was to sit in Anora's court to advise her and increase the standing of mages in the eyes of the world. Perhaps she could heal wounds between them and the Chantry. In any case, she had gladly given up the mantle of hero and slunk into the background, letting the young take the fame and glory that they didn't necessarily want. A poor end for a good mentor-student relationship.

But the poorest end of a relationship had been between him and Morrigan. For some reason known only to the Maker, he had fallen in love with the beautiful mage, despite her pessimism and sharp tongue. With persistence, he had managed to finally melt her cold facade and allow her, before the final battle, to confess her true feelings. She was still reluctant to admit it, and viewed their relationship as a mistake, but she loved him nonetheless. She had given him a ring which allowed her to find him wherever he was, a ring which forged a deep connection between the two, but whether its power would ever be called upon was open to debate. What tore Lucian apart more than anything was knowing that she was pregnant with his child, a child who had saved his life, preventing more needless death. A child with the soul of an Old God, which, under Morrigan's sole tutelage, could become the greatest mage the world had ever seen. A child who Lucian would most likely never see. Would it be a girl or a boy? Would it bear his sharp, pale Elven features or her dark hair and deadly beauty? Would it ever learn of its father, or would he remain a footnote in its history, a means to an end? Once or twice he thought he felt feelings of sadness and regret emanating from the ring, but this he put down to his imagination. He had vowed never to follow Morrigan, a show of true love, but he had always expected that he could fall back on the rest of his friends. Leliana in particular could fill more than one void. But now they were like leaves scattered to the wind. He was alone, lost, after doing so much good. He had expected to live a good and long life with his friends by his side, and perhaps even Morrigan seeing the error of her ways and coming back to be his wife or lover. A child they could raise together, guiding it along the path to greatness. But all he felt now was a cold, hard emptiness inside. After sacrificing so much and surviving horrors that would make seasoned warriors blanch, he felt he deserved a happy life. But fate was cruel. It didn't care about heroes and happy endings. The group of friends and warriors was shattered and would most likely never be reforged into a whole weapon again.

What paths awaited him now? He had brought good to many, saving the lives of the innocent and giving people a chance in life. He had even delved into pathetic-seeming village politics, persuading traders to lower their prices for the good of the people. It would likely leave a lasting mark on the village, but what good was it to him? He was world-renowned, loved by many and praised as a hero. The hero of Ferelden. But he didn't care. He didn't want adulation. He wanted Morrigan. He wanted their child. He wanted friends and family. He wanted Tamlen back, whose death was the greatest regret of his entire life. He had secured lands for the Dalish, but after seeing them fight together as a unit without him in the Battle of Denerim, he wondered whether he had a place in his clan anymore. His plan had always been to return there. It was what had driven his quest, fired his determination and dominated his dreams. But even the clan seemed pointless now. Better he had died at the hands of the darkspawn, or even better been killed by the Archdemon's death. A true hero to be remembered always, but without the horrible travesty that was now his life. He could have done good and yet still found the blissful eternity of the void. But there was no opportunity for that now. He had made his decision, and it would be just another nightmare to haunt him for however long he lived. He didn't know whether he had the courage for suicide, and he certainly didn't have the courage to track down some more darkspawn and let them kill him. His quest had made his mind fragile beyond anything he could have believed. He was inches away from becoming a screaming wreck, yet on the outside he remained cool, calm and emotionless, as if his heart couldn't connect with his exterior.

With one last, incredibly sorrowful look over the lands of Ferelden which had been in turns cruel and kind to him, Lucian sighed. He breathed in the welcome scents of the woodland, on the edge of which he lurked. The Dalish had no reason to hide anymore, with lands of their own, but Lucian wanted to be the last true remnant of their people. It was the only course he could see left to him. He would remember his friends and his adventures, if only in his dreams and nightmares, but if he delved deep enough into the forest he need never see another living being again, beyond animals. With his knowledge of herblore, he could perhaps make mind-numbing potions that stripped him of his torturous memories and allowed him to be truly alone and living the life of a ranger, in tune with the environment and with no knowledge of his past life and its many mistakes and regrets and lost loves. Perhaps this was what he had always wanted, deep inside.

**The End**

I wrote this story after completing the game and being really unsatisfied with the ending my character achieved. This short story chronicles what happened in my game after I killed the Archdemon and basically shows my feelings on the subject. It just made all of the hardship and relationships built up seem a bit pointless to me. Anyway, thank you for reading and I would appreciate reviews if you are willing.


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